


Crash

by rocknrollout



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Car Accidents, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Jack, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Temporary Character Death - Jack Harkness, hurt ianto
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 10:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2690207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocknrollout/pseuds/rocknrollout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the alarm went off at midnight, Jack and Ianto had dragged themselves out of bed (or the couch) and went weevil hunting. </p><p>They hadn't expected to end up with two concussions, three broken ribs, multiple lacerations, a broken arm, shattered elbow and a broken femur afterwards.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash

It was almost midnight, and the barely lit streets of Cardiff were empty. Only the occasional late-night driver would break the serene silence. Hours went by with the same lack of sound until a man in a coat too thick for late spring ran down the street. His boot-clad feet hit the pavement hard, steps louder around the silence of the night. His name was Captain Jack Harkness, leader of Torchwood, and they hunted aliens. Currently, he was chasing after a creature that could possibly pass as human if it weren't for the elongated, disfigured face, and the stumbled gait of someone with a bum leg.

The creature turned down into an alley to try and escape the sight of its pursuer. It might have worked if the creature was faster, but Jack was able to tackle it almost as soon as it had disappeared from sight. They struggled for dominance for only a few seconds, before the creature had its face pressed into the cold, wet concrete.  

Straddling the creature’s back, and with one hand holding its head down, the man stuck a type of sedative into its neck. He moved with practiced ease, grunting quietly when he pulled out the sedative. The creature was only able to struggle weakly for another minute before it was nearly unconscious. 

Jack laughed triumphantly, stretching the kinks out of his neck as he sat down on the slightly damp ground, coat keeping most of his ass dry. He turned the comm-link in his ear on, while keeping a close watch on the creature. “Able to keep up, Ianto?” He asked in a strong American accent.

“I’m pulling the SUV up now,” a man answered on the other end of the line. They had previously been both in the SUV, but when the Weevil went into areas that the SUV couldn't follow, Jack had decided to jump out and chase on foot. “Did he give you any trouble?”

“When was the last time a weevil gave _Captain Jack Harkness_ trouble?” Jack asked cheekily, putting a strong emphasis on his name and rank. “You know, people have ballads written about me.”  

“Of course, sir, but you seem to have forgotten last month's incident,” Ianto answered plainly. Jack could almost see the see the sass running through the comm-link. The incident Ianto spoke of had started normally, with Owen, Ianto and Jack trying to corner the Weevil and get it sedated. Until the thing had lunged at Jack, who hadn't expected the sudden movement, and tore through his jugular fast and painfully. He'd died before he hit the ground. 

Jack didn't have time to respond because a flat black SUV pulled into sight just as he was going to make some snappy comeback. Heaving the weevil into a fireman’s carry, he approached the vehicle. Droplets of murky water dripped from the wool coat as it swayed with his movements.

From the driver’s side of the SUV, a man in a ruffled, three-piece suit stepped out and walked towards Jack. The jacket looked fresh, except for the small wrinkles along the elbows. He followed Jack to the boot of the SUV, opening it so that Jack could drop the weevil inside. Slamming the doors shut, Jack climbed into the driver’s side and Ianto took the shotgun.

As they drove through the empty Cardiff streets, both stayed nearly silent. The only things that could be heard were the engine, Jack’s occasional shift of gear, and each breath they took. It was calming.

Until Jack spoke. “Did you write up the report for the Dalek-enhanced Thompson submachine guns?” He asked casually, trying to fill the silence with something other than simple small talk. He didn't put on the turn signal as he turned a corner onto another empty street.

“Finished and put on your desk two days ago, sir,” Ianto replied just as smoothly.

“Good,” Jack said. After a minute, he muttered, “You know I hate it when you call me sir.”

Ianto did know, but that wasn't going to stop him. He looked over at his boss. “What would you have me call you?”

“Your Highness works,” Jack suggested with a cheeky grin, glancing at Ianto momentarily. 

Ianto simply rolled his eyes and turned towards the window. It was too early to deal with the five-hundred-year-old child. He rested his chin on his hand and closed his eyes. It would be wise to try and get some rest on the way to the Hub. He and Jack had fallen asleep on the couch tangled together, using Jack's coat as a blanket, when the alarm went off.

A few minutes later, Jack looked over the man sitting next to him. Ianto had fallen asleep, head leaning against the window with his mouth parted slightly. Jack smiled; a small, genuine one that made his eyes lose the pain they normally held. Ianto was absolutely gorgeous when he was sleeping.  

The sound of an obnoxiously loud truck engine quickly caught Jack’s attention. He brought his eyes back to the road in time to see a very large truck coming at them head-on, and it wasn't about to stop. Jack barely had enough time to jerk the wheel left before the truck slammed into the SUV.

It sent them skidding sideways, and before Jack could regain control of the vehicle, the truck had already backed up and was ready to hit them again. It smashed into the back door and sent the SUV spinning; one set of wheels lifted off the ground, but it didn't tip over. They landed moments later with a heavy thud.

Both men were breathing in ragged gasps, Jack nearly being choked by his seat belt as he hung forwards, limp. “You okay?” He asked Ianto, his voice weak from the broken arm, leg, and ribs he most definitely had.  

“Not sure,” Ianto replied tensely. There was an intense pain running down his arm, so that was probably broken, and his head hurt from slamming it into the window. Thankfully, those seemed to be his only injuries. “You?” 

Before Jack could reply, the truck slammed into them a third time. Not even the SUV’s heavily reinforced metal could take the continual beating and it finally caved inwards, killing Jack. That seemed to be the last of it, because when the truck backed up, Ianto, who was barely still conscious, heard the truck's engine slowly fade out. He tried to hang on, tried to stay awake long enough to get help but he couldn't. The last thing he saw was Jack’s body contorted violently against the twisted SUV frame.

 

Jack came back to life with a desperate intake of air, eyes wide and frantic. He jolted up, but a sharp pain radiated through his entire body and set him slamming down down on the table he was lying on. He groaned with his lips tightly shut, closing his eyes too. The pain was more than he usually had after reviving. Was he not completely healed? How bad was it?

"Welcome back to the living, Harkness," he heard from his left side. Jack tilted his head slightly, wincing when it felt like pins were being stabbed into his neck and brain. Opening his eyes, he saw Owen standing there in his lab coat. He walked forward, and flashed a penlight in Jack's eyes; it stung. "How're you feeling?"

"Ow," Jack answered, squinting up at Owen. "Put that away."

"Well, you seem as fine as someone who was just crushed by a car door can be," Owen hummed, putting away the light. "And before you ask, Teaboy's fine. Broken arm, a few cuts from the glass, and a mild concussion but he'll live. You, on the other hand, have four broken ribs, cracked your skull open, completely shattered your right elbow, and managed to break your femur. God, just looking at you hurts."

"I've had worse," Jack assured, grinding his teeth together. 

"I'm sure," Owen scoffed, walking away for a minute. He came back with a needle and pressed it into Jack's thigh without his consent, pushing down the plunger. He tossed the needle into a waist-bin. "One and a half doses of an Industrial strength pain killer. You're welcome." 

Jack was going to complain, but then he felt the medication take affect. He hadn't had any pain killers in years, maybe decades, and had forgotten how nice they felt. The stress running through his body melted as the pain slowly faded into a dull ache that he could easily ignore. "Thanks," he mumbled.

"Mmhm," Owen barely acknowledged him, as he rummaged through one of his drawers. He pulled out a blue sling and walked over to the table. "Sit up, will you."

Jack looked at the sling, and back at Owen. "I don't need that," he stated plainly. He tried to sit up, but putting any weight on his right arm felt like he'd set himself on fire. "Fuck," he gasped, falling back down and cradling his elbow to his chest. 

"You were saying?" Owen smirked, putting the sling down so that he could help Jack sit up. They did so slowly, and Jack felt dizzy when they were done. Owen carefully maneuvered Jack's arm so that it was resting comfortably in the sling. "From what I can tell, your leg was the first thing to heal, then your head but your ribs and elbow hadn't before you revived. So, try to be careful for at least a few days."

"Yeah, okay," Jack said dismissively. He slid off the table, and his legs were thankfully able to hold him just fine without any pain. He walked up the steps out of the autopsy bay and was immediately greeted by Gwen.  

"Jack, are you alright?" She asked, getting out of her seat to try and help him over.

He shrugged out of her caring grasp with a quick "I'm fine," and walked over to Ianto. The welsh man was lying on the sofa, wearing only his trousers, socks and undershirt. One arm was in a sling that matched Jack's and the other was on his forehead, above a cool cloth over his eyes.

When he realized Jack was standing over him, Ianto pulled the cloth off his face and smiled. "Hey," he whispered. "You came back."

Jack smirked, and sat down on the arm of the sofa, near Ianto's head; his ribs protested the movement but he ignored them. "I always do..." he paused to place the cloth back over Ianto's eyes. "How long have I been out?" He asked the room, even though he was looking down at Ianto. 

"About two hours," Tosh supplied. She was sitting on a stool next to her desk, facing the group. "I got woken up  because the SUV had been severely compromised. I called Owen, who called Gwen and we used the tracking device to find you guys. Owen tended to Ianto, while Gwen and I got you into my car."

"You are so much heavier than you look," Gwen piped up.

"Ianto told us that you were hit by a semi, right?" Tosh asked. 

Jack looked at her, and nodded. "At least three times. It wasn't an accident."

Ianto voiced his agreement quietly, reaching back to hold Jack's hand. Jack accepted it, and rubbed his thumb along Ianto's knuckles. 

For the next twenty minutes, they talked about potential suspects. The problem was that there were a lot of people that could easily have enough of a motive to try and kill Torchwood members. After making a list of twenty people and/or organizations that want Torchwood off the grid, Jack ordered everyone to go to sleep. No one was leaving the Hub, though; not until they knew exactly who was hunting them.

Owen, being dead and all, didn't need sleep. Gwen had helped Jack grab two blankets from inside his bunker and she and Tosh took separate ends of the sofa. Ianto and Jack, of course, went down to Jack's bunker and slept there. It was always a tight squeeze, and even harder now that they were both injured. Owen had let Jack get out of his sling, but had wrapped his elbow so that he kept it in a slightly bent position. They were lying close on the bed, Ianto on his back with his broken arm on the outside while Jack was lying on his side, leaning slightly on Ianto's chest. They had a pillow in between them to save Jack's ribs.

"This is the worst position we've found on this bed so far," Ianto remarked, when they finally got more or less comfortable.

Jack laughed and burrowed his head into the crook of Ianto's neck. The Welshman wasn't wrong; getting comfortable with two people in this thing was always interesting, but this one won out for sure. They'd be lucky if Jack didn't fall out. "At least you're okay," he mumbled. 

Ianto smiled, picking up his hand and running his fingers through Jack's hair. "Goodnight," he whispered, closing his eyes. He continued to massage Jack's scalp until he fell asleep, probably ten minutes later. His hand rested there for the entire night, gently tangled with Jack's soft hair. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story had been nagging me to write it for the past month and since I had a break from school, I decided to finally do it. Any criticism is welcome and thank you for reading.


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